


The Journal Of Richard J Cunningham

by BaronessvonTrapp



Category: Happy Days
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronessvonTrapp/pseuds/BaronessvonTrapp
Summary: I love writing character diaries. I like to know what a character is thinking during conflict or my favorite episode of something. Most of the chapters are his impressions and thoughts during my favorite episodes.This first chapter is based on when Richie first meets the Fonz.  It describes his first impressions of the Fonz and how he managed to win him over as a friend for life.
Relationships: Joanie Cunningham & Richie Cunningham, Richie Cunningham/Arthur Fonzarelli, Richie Cunningham/Warren "Potsie" Weber
Kudos: 1





	1. Richie and his new friend

The last few days have been exciting. It is nice to have some excitement in the humdrum life of a midwestern teenager otherwise known as me.

The good news is I made a new friend. He is not the kind of guy one would expect someone like me to pal around with. I'll get to him later on.

This week was the start of sophomore year at Jefferson felt better this year than last year. I'm still not as cool as a junior or senior but I'm not as uncool as a Freshman.

The first day of school is usually lame. The come down from summer vacation takes at least a week to wear off. Although it is not like my summer vacation was super exciting, working at Dad's Hardware store during the day and hanging out eight Potsie at night. It was still better than school.

This year we could not wait to get the day over with because it meant we could go to Arnolds for the first time. Sophomore year is typically the year when a person is considered old enough and cool enough to hang out at Arnolds after school.

You don't understand Arnold's is something every kid looks forward to as soon as they are old enough to figure out what is going on. It is even worse if you have an older brother that rubs in getting to go before you.

Potsie and I had been talking about this in anticipation for weeks. I was actually ALMOST looking forward to the first day of school because of it..

During the last period homeroom, Ms. Pratt WOULD NOT shut up. She was giving what she thought was an inspirational speech about a new year and new beginnings. I was not inspired. All I was thinking was "Shut your beak lady!"

FINALLY we were free from school. We rushed over in great anticipation. Strangely I felt a little nervous when we got there. What if I really wasn't cool enough to belong there? Potsie admonished me for overthinking things. He has known me since we were five. Yes, I have been overthinking things my ENTIRE life.

I got over my anxiety and we sauntered in there like we were the ginchiest guys in Milwaukee. It was worth the wait. There was a huge jukebox with a booming sound. The dance floor was packed with stacked girls moving and swaying to the music. It was a bit overwhelming seeing that many pretty girls in one place.

We made our way to a booth. It was trying to navigate the dance floor. We wanted to stop and stare at all or most of the girls. However, it only took a minute to realize it was either that or getting trampled. That would be a hard injury to explain the next day.

Things were about to get worse. I should have known it was too good to be true. A tough looking biker surrounded by his tough looking flunkies approached our booth. It turns out he was the leader of one of the toughest gangs around the Falcons. Naturally, he was approaching our table. My brilliant response was blurting out "Hi." in the tone of an over excited twelve year old. He looked back at me with a statue like face. OK.

My ever so loyal and trusty best friend just sat there frozen. Big help! I kept babbling and the lead Falcon kept staring at me. FINALLY one of them told us we could not sit there.

Now I look like a nice guy. Fortunately or unfortunately I AM a nice guy. However, when I know deep down that something is wrong, it lights a fire in me. I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe in. I knew I could not live with myself If I let some low life gang members tell me where to sit. I have been looking forward to this day my whole life. These hoods were not gonna ruin it for me.

Apparently this booth is Falcon turf. Now that really inginited the flames within. They have no right to just decide public property belongs to them. I boldly said, "It's not turf! It's a booth!" I did not see any sign to indicate the booth was "reserved."

The leader's sidekick pointed out it was scratched into the wood. After squinting, I read the engraving, "This is Falcons turf." Oh, I was going down fast. I still was not gonna to give in though.

I refused to move and they said they were gonna punch us out. I declared that there is no way I was fighting over a booth. Potsie wanted to cancel our order and make tracks. I decided my rump was gonna stay planted in that booth. I knew that Potsie would not have the guts to leave without me. I told them with conviction that this whole situation was full of malarkey.

They asked me who my warlord was. I did not know what a warlord was but I knew it was not good. They explained that a warlord is someone who makes the arrangement for a flight but does not do the fighting. Ah!

So Potsie says, "I'll be his warlord." Some best friend! After several rounds of negotiation, they finally offered me Saturday at 10:00pm. My warlord had the courtesy to say, "Is that Ok with you Rich?" I guess he was taking his new appointment seriously.

Finally they left. Not only did he volunteer to be my warlord he was proud of it. He blurted out with Pride, "Hey! My first day at Arnolds and I'm a warlord." The only response that came to mind was "Sit on it Potsie!"

I have to say throughout this LONG week, I played mental ping pong. Do I show up and get creamed or do I not show up and give up the right to sit where I want at my new favorite hang out?

I decided to ask Dad's opinion. I pulled the famous teenage ploy "I know this guy…" I wonder if parents know we are talking about ourselves? If he does he never lets on. I told him the whole story about how the REALLY great guy that was told to give up his booth.

I respect his opinion. So my fear of pain and broken bones made me hope he would say it is not worth getting creamed. Of course he did not. He said that it was not right and if the nice guy believed it was wrong he NEEDED to fight for it Like son like father. This was getting scary.

I knew what I had to do. I could not have Dad and everyone else thinking I am a coward. I hoped my warlord would find the time to visit me in the hospital and bring me my homework.

Since I'm writing this, my arms were not broken. The "fight" did not turn out the way I thought it would have. I guess you could say the fight never happened at all.

I showed up at a little before 10:00pm. I was getting too antsy at home thinking of bruises, broken bones and contusions.

I was being brave but that did not mean I was not scared. I was so scared my legs were like noodles. Some stupid alley cat screeched and I went flying forward into a pile of garbage cans making a huge commotion. I thought I might actually get injured on my own before the fight. Oh I was in trouble.

I heard someone coming. However it was NOT the leader. It was my ever so diligent warlord. He came because he felt badly about arranging for me to get beat up. Despite my fear, it made me feel good that he was the loyal friend I knew.

Something about it did not feel right to me. Would it be a real fight if we ganged up on him two against one? Winning with an unfair advantage almost felt like cheating to me. We would be stooping to the level of The Falcons. I had to do this alone. I explained this to Pots.

I thought for a minute he would at least TRY and convince me to let him stay. Not Pots! His famous last words were, "OK see ya." as he made tracks and ran away faster than a windmill in a tornado.

At that point it was 10:00 pm. I figured maybe this guy was all talk and no action. After a split second he walked in and I knew I was dead meat. He seemed surprised when I showed up. It was not a good sign to me that most people were too chicken to show up.I wondered if I could call ahead now and just reserve my room at the hospital for later tonight

Was I crazy? Was a booth worth fighting over? I think it was. At that moment, I realized that a bruise would heal but not fighting for what is right I would always regret. Otherwise I would spend the rest of the year feeling like a stinky rat sitting in an inferior booth.

My fear took over the part of my brain that controls rational speech. It was like I was standing above watching myself and saying to myself, "I can't believe you just said that you dunderhead." The worst part was my mouth was not listening to me.

When he first saw me he said, "You showed?" I got extremely defensive and said, "Of course I showed! Why wouldn't I show. I'm prompt." Even writing it now is causing me to put my hand to my head in embarrassment. I might as well replace the J with an N on my letter sweater for NERD!

It got worse. When he mentioned that his last three fights did not show I with the authority of an old school teacher. "Well that would be rude." I might as well have turned to him and said, "Excuse me sir. May I ask you a favor? Please clobber me." Another chill going up my spine now.

What this guy was saying made so little sense that my outrage overtook my fear. I was fighting for what I believe is right but these knuckleheads beat people just for the sake of fighting. I asked the nature of his last three fights. I'm curious by nature.

Did you know that he took on a whole gang because someone bumped into "Monk" on a bus. Someone else looked at "leftys" girl. Another person got clobbered for reading a comic book. I was about to get beat up for sitting at a table.

What disturbed/disturbs me the most is that these people honestly believe that what they do is ok. This guy actually called them "good reasons."

He asked me if I have ever had a street fight before. Well, I don't think chasing some kid away in the third grade because he was being mean to Potsie qualifies as street fight. By the way, the kid out ran me and got away. I never got close enough to touch him.

I hate to admit this but I've never hit anyone except my older brother ONCE. He made me regret it. Hitting siblings does not count as long as the parents backs are turned.

I don't even know how this next move occurred to me. It happened in the mad adrenaline rush. Earlier he told me to show up without weapons because he does not need them. This sounds crazy but I held my hand in my pocket and pretended I had a gun. I was not sure if it would work or not. I was hoping to scare him and make a move when he was off guard. Either that or scare him into realizing that a fight over bumping, looking reading or sitting was not worth his life.

It worked. He was scared until I took my hand out of my pocket and made the sound of a gun. He said he knew I was kidding but I don't think that is true. himIt helps my ego to think I outmaneuvered him. He seemed defensive.

I pointed out to him that I was kidding THIS TIME. However, next time it could be someone with a real gun instead of some prompt kid with a quick finger. What happened next time when the police found him dead in an alley because somebody bumped Monk or looked at Lefty's girl?

I asked why he needed to be in a gang anyway. His response was, "Because I'm cool." I agree that HE is cool. I told him that all those people are cool because of him. He did not need those turkeys. I really believed what I was saying. He IS cool and those knuckleheads are cool because of him.

I was tired of talking. The anticipation of weather not I was going to the hospital or not was getting to me. At that moment, the anticipatory thoughts were worse than getting injured, recovering and getting on with my life. I took on a fighting stance and shuffled around telling him that I might not look tough but I'm scrappy. I had a feeling I was going to be the next scrappy guy on Milwaukee's disabled list.

The night took an interesting turn. He bumped my chin with his fist but in a slow way. Was he messing with me before a major blow or was he actually being friendly? He looked at me with respect and said, "Hey kid you got a lot of guts! I like that!" It was official. I was NOT going to be in a full body cast.

He offered to drive me home. By the way, "He" does have a name. He said I can call him the Fonz. I told him he can call me Richie. He said, "whoa." and made a face like he had just eaten a sour vegetable. Yes, I KNOW I have a very nerdy sounding name.

As The Fonz and I were about to leave. I noticed he forgot his Falcons jacket. I pointed that out and he left it on purpose. He is thinking of leaving the Falcons. I tried to take credit and he said, "Hey, I make my own decisions. I've been thinking about leaving for a while. Now just happens to be the right time." He gave me a look that dared me to challenge him. I conceded. However, I STILL think I was responsible for him deciding to leave the Falcons. I am not dumb enough to ever correct that fact though.

Before this happened I felt like just an average kid starting my sophomore year. Now, I'm starting the year with a super cool biker friend. I've got it made in the shade.


	2. Parents are People too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is his take on the episode when he and Potsie sneak into the strip joint.

I can't believe how naive I am sometimes. I keep hoping as I get older it will get better. What if i get to be 80 years old and I STILL believe everything people say to me. Am I gonna be the old guy in that everyone plays tricks on because he believes everyone? No one is gonna play tricks on Fonz in the old folks home.

This all started with my friend Ralph Malph. The good news about our friendship is his name is nerdier than mine by far.

He could not wait to tell all of us about his latest adventures at Eddie's pink palace, the local strip joint. Of course, I had not been to one YET. In my defence you have to be 18 to get in. On the other hand, Ralph is not eighteen either. It always seems like the rest of the world is having more fun than me.

According to him there were several dancers that led up a Bubbles Mccall who took it all off. I was trying not to act flustered so that my friends would think I was cool and worldly. I wanted them to think that talking about completely naked woman was an everyday occurrence for me. I wish!

As usual, my attempts to be cool start off on a high note until an unexpected event causes them to crash and burn at record speed.

Right at the high point of the story Marsha, the annoying waitress, LOUDLY blurted out, "Telephone call for Richie Cunningham. It's your mother." SHOOT ME NOW! The combination of discussing naked woman and my mother on the line was quite a scary combination of worlds.

Of course Marsha refused to take a message. I quietly snuck off. I could not think of what to say. "Keep talking about Bubbles guys. I'll be right back after I talk to my mommy."

I swear my mom has a radar for embarrassing me. It's like she gets a chill and has no choice but to inject herself at the wrong times. NEVER FAILS!

She felt compelled to call me at Arnolds with a shopping list. At that very moment she had to have me pick up bread and "TP." TP? She was not even able to say toilet paper over the phone.

I told her I had to go because Ralph Malph was telling us about "biology." A woman who could not say toilet paper over the phone was not ready to hear that we discussed strippers and naked women over our malts and fries!

Such is the world that when I finally got back to the booth the "biology talk." was OVER! Thanks Mom!

Potsie got this crazy idea into his head that we could go there. He suggested fake IDs.. Where were we supposed to get fake ids? He mentioned we DO have a friend named Fonz. I suppose the fun of having a cool biker friend is he can help you get away with stuff like this. I was excited but worried. Every time I do something wrong I get caught. I figured this was worth the risk.

After dinner, Pots brough Fonz and his friend "Pockets." This guy screamed "HOOD." I'm open minded especially when I need an illegal favor but I was worried. I did not like the fact that this guy now knew where I lived. At that point my parents were drained of a color. Typical Pots!

I had no choice but to take them up to my room. Now, he would know where I sleep. If I offended him it would be easier for him to come find me and kill me in my sleep.

Since I was trying to be hep and mature mom got a chill and had to rush up to crash it. That is her mission in life.

She barged into my illegal activity and said "I thought you 'boys' might like some milk and cookies." The irony was I was pretending to be 18 or older while my mommy was serving milk and cookies.

Poor Pockets did not know what to do. I doubt he gets homemade cookies at all his clients' houses. He leaned quickly over the offending document.

Mom could not just leave it alone and make tracks. She HAD TO ask what was wrong with pockets. Potsie blurted out that he has the hiccups. Where does he come up with this stuff?

She FINALLY left. I foolishly thought it was over. About thirty second later, she burst back into the room and yelled out "BOO!"

She went on the say that it always worked for me when I had hiccups. I began to wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole!

After all that, I did not get my ID! Pockets was too rattled and refused to do a second one. I found it hard to believe that having a day job helping people perform illegal activities was LESS stressful than my upstanding midwestern mother. Potsie was an "adult" but I still wasn't.

Pots seemed really happy. Why shouldn't be be? He had his ID. He told me that we would figure something out because it would not be the same without me.

I asked him if he really would not go without me. His loyal response was, "Oh well I'd still go but it would not be the same." I walked into that. I should have known. I figured he could go and I could just stay home and have milk and cookies with my mommy.

Things got better. Somehow Potsie got me an ID. I don't know how and I'm not sure I want to know. That Dunderhead has them put 25 as my age. I figured I can MAYBE be 18 but never 25. IF I made it in I was sure the end result would be worth it.

The name on the ID was Joe Kilwinski. Seriously? Do I LOOK like Joe Kilwinski? I was convinced this was never going to work out.

The night finally arrived. My appetite was weak at dinner. However it was NOT due to anxiety. It was due to the fact that Dad had a bad cold. He was hacking away at the table. He was TRYING to be considerate. However it was still gross.

Mom was trying to convince him to stay home from a business meeting he had planned. Apparently he had an annual meeting with an out of town client and it was vital to business. Although if the client ends up sick that could impact next year.

On the way, I was starting to chicken out. What if some tough bouncer beat us up for having a fake ID. How would I explain coming home battered up? I might get beat up AND grounded in the same night.

We saw one of the guys in front of us getting chased out for not being eighteen. IF I got caught I would only get yelled at and not punched out. That was SLIGHT comfort to me.

We intended to walk in like the ginchiest guys in town. It is difficult for me to be gincy and guilty at the same time. If I am guilty I look guilty. No amount of concentration or distraction can change my defensive body language.

The bouncer looked at my ID and back at me with intense scrutiny. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid he would actually be able to hear it. He gave me the ok

After I was cleared, I just stood there wondering what to do. I stupidly said,"So, I can just go in now? He looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

My legs finally got their function back and I moved forward. I heard "Joe?" I looked around waiting for a guy named Joe to respond. After all my name is Richie. Finally, it dawned on me that at that moment in time I was Joe. OH! Apparently, I forgot to take back my ID.

I was so focused on getting through the line that I don't recall how Pots manage to get through. The important thing is he got through. I wondered if he would. After all everyone knows I am way more mature than him.

I had built this up in my mind as some big coming of age experience. It was no like that at all. They built up to Bubbles with toned down acts. The woman before her was definitely more attractive and mature than any girl in all of Jefferson High. However, I was unimpressed with her talent or enthusiasm. It was like she could not wait to get the dance over with and go home.

Potise admonished me for complaining. I was not denying that it was exciting to be watching the act. However, I went through all that trouble to lie about my age. Not to mention the anxiety about getting caught. I just thought it would be better than that.

This is where my evening took a most bizarre and unthinkable turn. I suddenly heard a sneeze. I realize that everyone sneezes. It sounds bizarre to say this, but I recognized the sneeze. When I told Potsie I thought I recognized the sneeze, He looked at me like he was ready to switch tables and pretend he did not know me.

I took my eyes off the dancer and slowly turned my head. What I saw next made me think that I was going to pass out cold and be tended to by the beautiful yet lackluster dancer.

I WAS right. That sneeze WAS familiar. I was my Dad. Yes, I said MY DAD! Why does bizarre stuff happen to me every time I do something wrong? What are the odds?

My immediate reaction was to flee the scene right away. I told Potsie that my father was behind us and he STILL wanted to stay and see Bubbles. I was too distracted by the prospect of being killed. He argued we had come this far and had to stay. His brilliant response was, "Well at least we will die with smiles on our faces." I could not argue with that. I did not want people at school to know I bolted nor that my father was there. I was not going anywhere.

It was hard to enjoy anything when you are scrunched up in an already uncomfortable seat trying not to be seen. I find that in life when we are trying too hard to avoid something it always works out in reverse.

I ended up being the center of attention. I think my body language made Bubbles feel sorry for me. I suppose she was a compassionate stripper. She removed her gloves and one of them landed directly on my head. Of course it did! I'm sure my face was probably redder than the cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving.

This is where the night truly came crashing down. We thought she was at the part of the dance when she took it all off. Instead she abruptly turned and walked off. I was not even gonna die with a smile on my face.

Ralph is a good actor. The way he told that story has us convinced. I was annoyed with him because I went through all that angst AND was now risking getting into major trouble for NOTHING!

We narrowly escaped. So, that was one worry behind me. Potsie's commentary on the subject was, "What kind of world is this where you can't even escape your parents at a strip joint?" It was definitely a crashing combination of worlds.

The adrenalin rush of trying to escape wore off and the severity of the situation hit me. My father went to be a strip tease joint! Potsie did not understand at first why I was upset and stated that we also went.

That is a different situation entirely. I swear sometimes he just does not get it. We were wrong to go but we are teenagers and curiosity got the better of us.

However, I never thought my father would do something like that. He is married and supposed to be a pillar of the community. I felt angry that he taught me right from wrong and then turned around and did something so sleazy behind my back.

I have always valued his opinion and based my actions on his advice. No matter how I tried to frame it in my mind, a married man with three kids going to a striptease joint is wrong.

When I got home I was hoping to just avoid Dad altogether. I really hated that feeling. I normally enjoyed seeing him when I got home but this time I felt ashamed.

It did not turn out that way. I'm glad because this forced us to clear things up. Otherwise I could have gone on feeling anger and resentment.

At first I was upset because he told me he was at a "business meeting". So now he was lying to me on top of being sleazy.

What really made me feel disillusioned was I am honest to a fault. I am that way because HE taught that honesty is always best. That same person was looking me right in the eye and lying to me or so I thought. I tried to escape before I said or did something that showed my true feelings.

As I was trying to escape to my room he called after me, "You forgot your souvenir." He pulled the glove out of his pocket. My face went back to cranberry sauce red. I really WAS the center of attention. He knew all along! Why do I ALWAYS get caught when I do something wrong?

I had to turn over the ID. After tonight, I was glad to get rid of it. I was grounded for a week. That seemed mild all things considered. He looked at my ID and told me that if "Joe" were here he would have grounded him too.

We were able to clear up the misunderstanding. It really was a business meeting. It turns out this annual client enjoys the stripjoint. The better the stripper the more nails he sells. That certainly created a perverse image in my head. Mom knew all about it and understood the business aspect of it all.

I felt so much better. I must admit I felt bad for believing he was capable of that kind of behavior. I should have known there was a logical explanation. Next time, I will find out the truth before jumping to wild conclusions.

The next afternoon Arnolds was buzzing with the news that we went to Eddies pink palace. Word travels fast. One of our classmates came up to us and said he heard Bubbles "takes it all off." His excitement was more than palpable.

As usual, I was prepared to tell the truth. However, Potsie decided to tell the fabricated version. I should have known.

I gave him a hard time for that. See what I mean, I AM honest to a fault. I felt badly that we told someone else a lie. I remembered how disappointed we were. Thanks Dad for that lesson. I sometimes wish I could lie more easily like everyone else.

Fonz overheard and cleared it. up for us. His response was "Bull makes the world go 'round." AH! He decided it was so profound he needed to write it on the bathroom wall. There is no place like the bathroom wall for deep and profound poetry.


	3. Amicus Fidelis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is his take on the early Christmas episode when he found out Fonz was alone. One of my favorites!

I have a bad case of the January blues. I get them every year after Christmas. They do go away within a week or two. The come down from Christmas vacation and parties is a tough blow year after year. Taking down the tree and all the decorations further enhance the blues. The house looks so empty for a day or two until I get used to it again.

This Christmas I learned something about the spirit of Christmas and goodwill towards men. I do sometimes wish that my daily life did not always involve a learning experience and or moral dilemma.

The bottom line is I learned that not everyone lives the way I do. I think that when we get caught up in daily life and we forget that others are not as fortunate as ourselves. I realize it sounds super sappy. However, that is par for the course during the Christmas season. I cannot escape it.

As Christmas eve approached Dad carried on in lectures filled with fatherly tone about how Christmas eve was gonna be STRICTLY family. Several times I was tempted to get up and left the room just so I could roll my eyes in private.

My annoying pain in the hindquarters sister, kept begging to invite her possessed little friends from the junior Chipmunks over for Christmas eve. I did not want to spend Christmas with a bunch of sugar hyped up little gnats.

Luckily Dad firmly declared, "NO CHIMMUNKS! NO RICHIE OR CHUCK'S FRIENDS JUST FAMILY!" I really didn't like the fact that our friends were lumped in with those little monsters.

A few days before Christmas we were all hanging out at Arnolds. I enjoyed it even more because it was all decked out for Christmas and put us in the spirit. It was fun to just relax and hang out with friends and forget about school and other stress until January.

Fonz came in and was overly cheery. Not that he is normally morose. He just seemed in an overly good mood.

I could not really blame him since he has all the young female waitresses eating out of his hand. I don't know how he does it. It is a gift, a mystery or some secret power he possesses.

He came bearing gifts for me Pots and Ralph. I had a gift for him but it was home. Neither one of them had anything. I could tell they felt pretty rotten.

As a goodwill gesture, Pots kindly invited Fonz to his house for Christmas Turkey. It was truly a kind gesture of a friend BUT it scared me to think of his mean ill tempered father when he broke the news that the Fonz of all people was coming. I used to be terrified of him when we were little! In all honesty, I think I still am. That is probably why we spent the majority of the time playing at my house as children. I digress!

Fortunately Fonz declared he had other plans. I let out a huge sigh of relief for Potsie. Fonz told the tale of a lavish party he was invited to at his cousin's in Waukesha.

The way he described it seemed lavish for the Fonz. He described it as a huge house with a nine foot tree and an abundance of food and presents. It did not seem to match the little I knew about his background but who was I to judge.

Early in the day on Christmas Eve, we were all subjected to the last minute annoying Christmas chores. Since it was just the five of us, I don't know why Dad was making such a fuss about everything.

Dad was all bent out of shape because we still had to put up the stupid looking Santa in the yard. Seriously? He expected us to go out in the cold to put up the Santa. However, we knew we could not say no.

Santa was supposed to make a motion with his arm like he was handing out a gift. Dad was in a huff because it was moving too slowly. I really did not care. I just wanted to go inside and drink something warm.

I was told to turn the stupid knob in his back to the right to speed it up. I did exactly as I was told but got yelled at and ridiculed anyway. I think I turned it too hard and it fell off. Santa started going crazy. On top of that Dad was yelling at me to grab him and stop him. I was literally standing in front of him trying to stop him from attacking me.

Yes, I'm 16 and still refer to Santa as "him" A person can't lose ALL the holiday magic just because they are approaching adulthood.

If that was not infuriating enough my brother just stood there with his dumb mouth hanging open. Notice Dad did not ask him to restrain violent Santa. His big instruction was to plug in Santa. Big deal!

I got tired of being beaten up by Santa and yelled to him "WILL YOU HELP ME?!" His response of brotherly love was, "This is funny Richie!" All I could think is if they were handing out parts for animals in the Nativity I know who could play The ASS.

I was helping Dad close up the store Christmas Eve. By the way, notice Chuck was not asked to help I was. Sure Richie will do it! He's responsible and won't argue. It's not worth their effort to ask him because he is a grumbletonian.

Anyway, we realized the car broke down. I knew Fonz was going to Waukesha but I decided to take a chance and see if he was still at the garage. I was in luck and we were able to push the car there.

Something very strange happened after he fixed the car. He generously did not charge us because it was Christmas eve. Dad and I felt badly but he insisted.

I looked at my watch and realized it was ten after four. I felt rotten that we made Fonz miss his bus especially since he did not charge us. He did not seem bothered by it as there was another one at five. Dad offered to take him to a coffee shop until the next bus.

He became extremely defensive, bordering on rude. First he declined the coffee and donuts idea saying he had to save his appetite for the "huge spread" awaiting him. I suggested that since Waukesha is not that far we could give him a ride. Dad was happy to do it after he was so generous with the car.

He in essence told us to back off and go away. I was thinking a lot of bad words I wanted to say to him but I couldn't in front of my Dad!

He did apologize as we are about to leave. However I was still a little peevish. Outside I realized I forgot to give him my Christmas present. Dad told me to run in and give it to him. I was still a tiny bit sore but decided to try and forget it on Christmas eve.

When I got to the window I was shocked at what I saw. He was sitting in the back room heating up ravioli from a can. It turns out, he made up the story about Waukesha. My heart sank. He was too ashamed at having no place to go for Christmas. I could no longer be angry because I understood why he got so upset. I decided to sneak back into the car. I did not want to further embarrass him.

I started to explain things to Dad. However, he immediately went into how excited he was about an "old fashioned family Christmas." A lump formed in my throat all I could do was nod in agreement.

I was having a hard time enjoying myself. The atmosphere was right. We were in a cozy house with a nice tree and awaiting a good meal. However, I felt bad when one of my good friends was all alone eating canned food on Christmas eve.

Dad picked up on my somber mood. I told him I did not think Fonz really went to Waukesha. In fact I was certain of it. He was in denial. He gave me a line that he was with his family and I was with mine. We were both where we should be. I was getting frustrated because I KNEW he was alone and Dad would not listen.

The rest of the household understood but Dad just did not want to ruin his "old fashioned Christmas." We all gave him sad looks to invoke guilt, mom included. It finally worked. He hesitantly declared, "Richie… lets go pick up Fonzie."

Once we arrived at Fonz's apartment, I felt anxious. One cannot be confrontational about it. If he went to painstaking lengths to cover it up, he is ashamed about it. No one wants to be pitied. "Please come over because we know you have absolutely nowhere else to go." would not work. Saying that would definitely get me punched out. A trip to the hospital would really ruin Dad's idea of a fairy tale Christmas.

He continued the charade the entire time. When we came to the door we heard music. I had a feeling he was going to pretend not to be there. I firmly told him that we knew he was there because we heard the music.

He actually came to the door pretending to be leaving and was carrying an empty suitcase. That made me peevish again. I'm an honors student at the top of my class! Did he really expect me to fall for that?

I calmly said that maybe he would rather go in the morning since he was already so late. I told him that I kind of wanted him to see how nice the house looks and the tree. I was grasping at straws. He would not budge.

I tried a different tactic. Fonz always responds when it looks like he is needed whether the need is real or not. If he thinks he can save the day there is no stopping him. We actually made a list of little petty things that needed fixing.

I immediately remembered the stupid Santa. I told him we needed him to come fix him. After all, what is Christmas without Santa. He agreed to come but HAD TO leave right after to "catch the last bus." He took the bait!

We achieved our goal. We kept him busy until it was too late to make the last bus.

It seemed sort of sad to me. When we announced that it was ten after nine and the last bus was at nine, Fonz just stood there helpless. Yes, I said HELPLESS. He managed to quietly say, "I know."

He stared at everyone not knowing what to say. He was completely vulnerable and not the cool,biker dude that we all know and love.

It was the first time I saw him as a real person. He actually has hard times in life. Things don't "always" work out for him. Even his perceived super powers with girls does not protect him from the vulnerabilities of life.

Mom was the first to diffuse the situation. He responded with the realization of, "OH! You missed the last bus to Waukesha." Even Chuck got on board and sincerely told Fonz we would love to have him. MAYBE he really is NOT the ass of the Nativity scene. Dad graciously gave up his idea of the old fashioned family Christmas.

The problem is Fonz means well but he ALWAYS has to be in charge. So, he kept trying to "fix" every situation. Not in a malicious way but he really believes he is making it better and that makes him feel good. I can get nerve wracking at himes.

Dad was innocently popping popcorn in the fireplace. Fonz confidently went up to him and told him that he was not doing it correctly. OH BOY! Apparently, to get really good popcorn you need to get more wrist action. Luckily Dad was a good sport about it. However, I know him and know deep down he was taken aback.

I have to say that the highlight of the evening was when Fonz read "Twas the Night before Christmas." It is an annual family tradition for Dad to read every year. I am forced to admit that because I'm sixteen I have to say it's lame. However the child in me still kind of likes being read to by my Dad. However ONLY on Christmas eve and ONLY that one story.

Dad made this big scene about how he was gonna read it and we all needed to take our place. Fonz jumped up with the excitement of a new puppy and said, "Hey, can I do that? Let me do that. I love reading poetry." I was thinking the poetry on the bathroom wall is not the kind of poetry my father had in mind."

I kind of felt bad sorry for Dad because he lives for this stuff. However, he took a deep breath and let Fonz have a chance.

I must say that Fonz's rendition was radically different from Dad's. His childlike enthusiasm was sweet. I would not call it sweet to his face. He started out "Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…" He paused to take in the words and followed with "Hey. Can you dig it?" and showed the pictures to everyone. I wish I had had a camera to capture the look on Dad's face. To his credit he did not verbalize his shock.

Dinner was actually rather uneventful. I was not sure what would happen. Thank God Fonz did not offer to carve the turkey. I had visions of him brutalizing the poor turkey with the knife to my parents horror.

Dad did ask him to say the blessing. I became nervous. I envisioned him having street talk with God. "Hey God great meal. Can you dig it?" However, to my relief he kept it quite simple. He simply looked to the heavens with reverence and "Hey God? Thanks!" He did give his thumbs up to God but it was quiet. I'm pretty sure that God dug the prayer.

Chuck and I were saying later we really liked his version of Grace. My Gramma Kelp goes on and on for hours thanking everything from the grass that grows to the gas you put in your car. Meanwhile your good food is getting cold and congealed. I'm sure even God is up there thinking, "NO! Mrs. Kelp again. SHUT UP lady! I get it. You are Thankful. You are welcome!"

I think the best part of my experience is I was able to see that Fonz is human like the rest of us. He is not always winning in life and acting out the content of our mere dreams. I clearly saw that he felt sad and vulnerable about having no family to spend the holidays with.

The good news is I have a feeling he will be with us on Christmas for the foreseeable future. We all want him here even though it does shake up the traditional scene just a bit.


	4. The Grass is always greener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is his take on the episode where Fonz tries to "drop in" to school.

I tried to help a friend but it did not go as I planned. Sometimes things are actually as they should be and it is best to leave them alone. I learned that lesson this week.

We were at school playing basketball during lunch. We have a limited lunch so these games are often rushed and not fun. I probably like school more than most. However, sometimes I wish it was less structured. It would be nice if we could finish the game and arrive for the next period a little late without much consequence.

I saw Fonz casually leaning against the fence and watching the game. He has it made. He has a job he is good at and can set his own schedule. I had a free period so I decided to say hello.

I felt kind of jealous that he said he took the day off. I would love to take a day off. Sometimes I want to take one day off just to do homework that piles up so that I can have more fun at night and weekends. When Fonz is done with work for the day he is free. We students still have to do homework and study after a long day.

After I asked him about it I realized it might not be as glamorous as I thought. It turns out everyone he knows for work is married and goes straight home. He once went out for a beer with an old guy who complained about old guy ailments. School and homework was starting to look good.

Looking back it was probably not my place but I asked him if he ever regretted dropping out of school. Maybe it was none of my business but it just came out. His response was there are too many rules. He had me there. I Immediately heard Dad and Grampa Sean's voices lecturing about how life is full of rules that are not always "nice." Whatever.

I miraculously talked him into "dropping back in." All we had to do was go to Principal Fairday's office and explain it to him

He informed me I was going with him. I swear I was born feeling guilty. Even walking to the Principal's office makes me nervous. I knew I had not done anything wrong in the past twenty four to forty eight hours. However, the principal's office is always associated with something bad in my mind.

The next day the adventure began. This experience reminds me that not everyone belongs in school and that is ok. Fonz is definitely one of those people.

He walked into class with such confidence on his first day. I was a nervous wreck my first day here.

I did not tell anyone else that Fonz was coming. I wanted to see the look of surprise on everyone's faces when Fonz walked into the first period. There was plenty of speculation. Ralph suggested that maybe Fonz was dating Miss. Pratt. GROSS! They thought of ANYONE dating Miss Pratt sent a wave of nausea over me.

I wish I could have the nerve to do and get away with some of the stuff that Fonz does. Miss Pratt told him to take his seat. He started moving people around so she could sit by us. It was worth it to see the seething look on Miss Pratt's face when her class was in chaos.

She publicly admonished him. Now if would bother me to be yelled at by a teacher. However he acted like it did not bother him. He innocently apologized and with the sweetness of a choir boy. I would not have the guts to do that nor would I get away with it.

She was not at all pleased when after she introduced him as the "new kid" the entire class burst into applause. Her response was, "You are very popular." with gritted teeth.

However, he did win back her favor. When a bunch of us led by Potsie started making wise cracks, he stood up and loudly declared, "AH AH. The teacher is talking!" It scared the heck out of us including me. She blushed like a shy little girl giving her first presentation. All this alone was worth asking Fonz to come back.

I thought things were going well. I was mentally giving myself a pat on the back for being a good pal. That was about the change. You guessed it, a moral dilemma is coming up. My almost daily life is not complete with one.

In my naive mind, I thought everything was going well. A few days later in Arnolds parking lot, Fonz says to me, "I 'aint doing so good." (Doing so WELL! I made that correction here but NEVER to his face) He was worried about the american History test. I figured it was simple. I would tutor him before the test.

Fonz came over for dinner before "studying." I think deep down my parents like him. They realize he is not a hood just because he wears a leather jacket. However, it is sort of a strange combination of worlds.

My annoying little sister in another story. I often want to belt her one hard and I don't feel bad about it. She kept repeating in her annoying little chipmunk voice, "Fonzie is a hood." She barely knows what that means. She is just repeating stupid stuff her head from her puny little friends. Mom and Dad tried to explain to her annoying little self that you can't generalize blah blah blah…

Fonz was a LITTLE late. To my mom, being a minute late for dinner is like the end of the world. She was deeply concerned that her mashed potatoes were getting stiff. There is so much bad news in the newspaper, I find it hard to share her feelings that stiff potatoes are REALLY tragic!

We survived dinner but there were one or two tense moments. Fonz finally arrived and no potatoes were harmed in the process. First he took his seat in Dad's seat at the head of the table. Someone else sitting in his seat is apparently the end of the world as well. She started to fuss but mom talked him down. She is very good at that.

We had yet another incident regarding the stupid potatoes. Fonz complimented her but he unwittingly made a backhanded compliment. He politely said "These are great potatos Mrs. C, nice and stiff like at the diner." I kind of felt sorry for her despite all her mom weirdness.

That was small potatoes(pardon the pun) compared to what happened next. I was all ready to hit the books but Fonz had other ideas. He wanted me to help him cheat. He had this idea that I cough once for true and two for false for the test. Seriously? That would never work. Miss. Pratt would have me sent to the hospital for TB.

I tried to protest but he said it was not cheating, it was helping out a friend. Not true. Cheating is cheating.

He threw in that I got him into this. That upset me. I don't like being guilted, especially by friends. I made a suggestion and did not hold a gun to his head.

At that moment I did not say no. However, I knew I could not go through with it. I was up half the night worrying about it. If he did not beat me up when he was still in the Falcons MAYBE he would not beat me up for this. Although he blames me for this. So, it would either be a black eye or getting expelled. Let's face it, I would get caught!

I was up half the night so I was sluggish getting to school and first period. I realized I might be a minute or two late for class. It never occurs to Ms. Pratt that I would be late so she acts almost hurt or something. However, I swear a few times Pots and Ralph walk in late and she barely notices.

As always she noticed. When I first walked in, she did not look up from her papers. I thought maybe I was home free. However, in my next move I blew it.

I made a decision that I could not cheat even for a friend. Even if he had to beat me up, I had to take it like a man rather than going through with cheating. I figured the bruises would heal but cheating would always somehow be with me.

I had to quickly fill Fonz in on my final decision before the test started. I leaned over and TRIED to whisper that I can't do it. I never got to tell him because at that moment I got nailed. Ms. Pratt felt compelled to say, "Mr. Cunningham! You are not only a minute late but you are compounding your tardiness by speaking in class please put a tick lock on your mouth." OH LORD!

My out loud answer was of course, "Yes Mam." My response in my head was "Cool you Jets lady. I was a minute late. It's not like I killed anyone on the way to class!" Pots leaned over and said to me, 'Gee I'd hate to be you after school." Big help! Notice Miss Pratt glossed over HIS whispering.

The problem is I did not get to tell him I was not helping him. When the test started he was waiting for me to cough. I was silent like you are supposed to be during a test. He started violently pretend coughing. Why does this stuff always happen to me?

I just took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sound of my heart beating in my ears. He soon realized the coughing response was not getting him anywhere. I felt mild comfort in the fact that even the Fonz could not get away with beating me up in class.

I think maybe God was trying to tell Fonz he should not be cheating. I miraculously got a split second to whisper to him that I can't do it. I had to say something. The pretend coughing was driving me and the rest of the class mad. He seemed slightly put out but did not look like I was going to kill me the moment school was over. He defensively said "I have other ways! I came prepared."

He worked his brand of magic again by raising his hand asking if he could open a window. At first I was worried because Miss Pratt usually has a heart attack if students ask to leave their seats. However, Fonz has some sort of armor that protects him from the grief experienced by us mere mortals. She smiled a bright and uncharacteristic smile, and said, "Of course Fonzie. We can never have enough fresh air."

Not five minutes earlier, Ralph tried to get up to hang up his sweater during the test. She lit into him saying, "Absolutely NO ONE is allowed to leave his/her seat during the test." However, she was all cheery with the Fonz. I guess it is just one of life's mysteries.

Fonz must have known deep down that I am genetically incapable of cheating. He actually left notes on the back windowsill as a backup. That sounds clever but some dumb bird decided to use them as a restroom and rendered them illegible. I'm telling you it was some grandiose sign. I also feared it was a sign that I was in for it after school.

I swear Potsie is nothing but a well meaning chicken. We were talking after school. I was delaying the inevitable chore of facing Fonz.

Sensing my anxiety, Pots blurted out, "You're my best friend. If you want me to go with you, I will!" he said with staunch loyalty in his voice. In reality he hoped I would refuse and insist on doing it alone. After eleven years of friendship, I should have known.

In a moment of weakness I bought it. I let out a sigh of relief and said, "Oh I would really appreciate that Potsie!" He came back in a defensive tone. "Some best friend! Do you want me to get clobbered too? Then who would nurse you to health?" I shook my head in agreement. His last words were, "I'll be with you in spirit." In a blur of dust, he bolted. Thanks Pal!

Thinking back to the first time we met, I should have known deep down that Fonz would not clobber me. However, the image of him as the tough Falcon always remains in the back of my mind. That mild fear will never go away. Truth is, he was not mad at all. All that angst for nothing. My whole life is angst for nothing.

I was happy to know that even without cheating he managed to pass the test. I was sad to hear that right after the test he went immediately to Principal Fairday's office and dropped out again.

I started to encourage him but I realized that not everyone is meant to be in school. Certainly not everyone is as nerdy enough to like school at times. As my Grampa Sean always says, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink."


End file.
